


Stay With Me

by alSaqr



Category: The Lovecraft Investigations
Genre: F/M, Unrequited Love, trauma mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-13
Updated: 2020-11-13
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:55:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27537193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alSaqr/pseuds/alSaqr
Summary: At the end of 'The Case of Charles Dexter Ward', Matthew comforts a traumatized Kennedy, and dwells on his feelings.
Relationships: Kennedy Fisher/Matthew Heawood
Comments: 2
Kudos: 4





	Stay With Me

“Stay with me.”

Matthew Heawood would have given Kennedy Fisher the world, if only she had asked it of him. The only thing he couldn’t give her were the words he so desperately wanted to say.

He wondered, sometimes, if she felt the same way that he did; if Kennedy, too, was too scared to say so out loud. _If_ , he thought, _the idea that anything else could faze her after all she’s been through, now._ But she had seen so much - been put through so much by Dr Allen and Barbara Sayers - that he hardly begrudged it of her. As he held her, sobbing quietly in his arms, fast asleep, all he wanted to do was to wipe away those tears and tell her that there was nothing to be afraid of, not anymore. 

It would be a lie. Or rather, he wanted it not to be a lie, but he had no idea what she had been through, and no way to understand.

Ezra Wheaton was asleep on the couch. Something about that made Matthew want to hold Kennedy tighter. He didn’t trust the man; never had, ever since the day that he’d first met him. And there was no good reason to be suspicious, when he thought about it. After all, he _had_ rescued Kennedy twice, and gotten her on a plane back to England. Back to Matthew. But there was something about the Ezra sleeping on the couch who didn’t feel like the Ezra on the phone, or the Ezra in Kennedy’s interviews. He seemed more shrewd, more secretive. Matthew had seen him watching the tape recorders, watching what Matthew was doing, as though he was getting ready to- _what, Matthew?_ he chastised himself. _Steal them? Destroy them?_ But the problem was, he couldn’t bring himself to put it past him. If there had been a lock on Kennedy’s bedroom door, he would have shut it.

Kennedy made a sound in her sleep, something between a choke and a scream, and all thoughts of Ezra rushed from Matthew’s mind. His attention snapped back to her as he pushed her hair out of her face, stroking gently and whispering nothing in particular.

“It’s okay, Kennedy… it’s okay…”

He tried not to wake her, even though part of him wanted to shake her and hold her and make her a whiskey, or a gin. Her sanity was hanging by a thread, and she hadn’t been herself since returning from America. And yet… he couldn’t shut up that selfish voice at the back of his mind that wanted her so, so bad. Always had. Matthew had been in love with Kennedy from the moment that ‘The Mystery Machine’ had left ground. The sparkle in her eyes when she’d posed the idea to him over coffee, the way that she could somehow tap research out of stone, the way that she teased him about wavelengths and sound balancing… The curve of her hip, under his hand, the way that she touched the small of his back when she passed him by, her breath on the back of his neck when he was editing a video and she wanted to see what he was up to. But he couldn’t have her. Couldn’t bring himself to say anything. Never had, and probably never would.

_Kennedy might never recover from what they did to her._ He had to remind himself of that, as the unknown words she was mumbling under her breath died down, and sobs stopped racking her body. _It could be PTSD, she could be affected by this forever._ But there was one thing he knew, easing himself off his elbow and lying back down in the bed, pressing his chest against her warm back and enjoying the contact as much as (he hoped) she did the comfort. _She asked for me, after all. Asked for_ me. He knew - through thick and thin, whatever this Necronomicon bullshit turned out to mean - that he would stick by her, even if she never loved him back. There was nothing she could do that would make him turn his back on her.


End file.
